In the summer of 2018, the internet didn't care about trade wars or box office numbers for a solid week. It only cared about a 12-year-old from New Jersey with a soul-patch-in-spirit and a level of confidence most adults would pay a therapist thousands to achieve.
"Hi, my name is Alfred Delia. At home they call me Big Al, and I hit dingers."
Five seconds. That’s all it took. One intro clip on ESPN and Alfred Delia wasn't just a kid playing for Middletown; he was a folk hero. He became the face of the Little League World Series (LLWS) without even technically making it to the final bracket in Williamsport. People loved him because he was the antidote to the hyper-intense, "travel-ball-parent" culture that has slowly sucked the fun out of youth sports. He was just a kid who liked hitting the ball hard.
The Moment Big Al Hits Dingers Became a Thing
Most LLWS intros are painfully robotic. A kid stands there, says his favorite food is chicken nuggets, and stares blankly into the camera.
Then came Alfred.
He didn't just say his name; he announced his presence. The delivery was perfect—half-shrug, half-smirk. When he said "Big Al hits dingers," he wasn't bragging. He was stating a fundamental law of physics. It resonated because it felt authentic. In an era of polished PR, a kid talking about mashing baseballs with zero filter is pure gold.
📖 Related: Bethany Hamilton and the Shark: What Really Happened That Morning
The video exploded. We're talking millions of views in hours. Jimmy Kimmel called. The Philadelphia Phillies wanted a piece of the magic. Giancarlo Stanton—a guy who actually hits the longest dingers on the planet—was seen wearing a "Big Al Hits Dingers" t-shirt at Yankee Stadium. It was a bizarre, beautiful crossover event where a middle-schooler became more recognizable than most MLB utility players.
What People Get Wrong About the Viral Clip
Honestly, a lot of people think Alfred’s team, Middletown, won the whole thing. They didn't. They actually got knocked out in the Mid-Atlantic Regional by a powerhouse team from Staten Island.
The clip that made him famous was actually a promo for that regional tournament. Despite his team not reaching the "holy grail" of Williamsport, Big Al was invited there anyway as a guest of honor. He ended up meeting Rhys Hoskins, who was basically a superfan at that point. It's kinda wild when you think about it—a kid becomes the biggest star of a tournament he wasn't even technically playing in anymore.
There’s also this misconception that "Big Al" was just a character he played. It wasn't. He’s explained in interviews since then that the nickname came from a family tradition. His grandpa was Big Al, his dad was Little Al, and he inherited the "Big" title. As for the "dingers" line? He didn't have a script. He just said what he did.
Where is He Now? (2026 Update)
If you saw Alfred today, you might not recognize him. The round-faced kid from the 2018 highlights is gone.
👉 See also: Simona Halep and the Reality of Tennis Player Breast Reduction
By the time he was a senior at Red Bank Catholic High School in New Jersey, he had leaned out significantly. He wasn't the "Big Al" of old, at least physically. His teammates started calling him "Fred" or "Fredo Sauce." But the swing? That stayed exactly the same.
On Opening Day of his senior high school season in 2024, he stepped up to the plate and—true to the legend—hit a solo home run to left field. The video of that high school dinger went viral all over again, racking up over a million views because the internet has a long memory for its heroes.
As of early 2026, Alfred is continuing his baseball journey. After a stint committed to Felician University, a Division II program in New Jersey, he’s been working his way through the college ranks. He's currently playing junior college ball, still putting in time in the gym and, yes, still hitting the occasional dinger. He’s also picked up golf, which makes sense—the mechanics of a power swing translated pretty well to the fairway.
The Impact on Youth Sports Culture
There's a serious side to the "Big Al hits dingers" phenomenon that experts in sports psychology actually point to. We live in a world where 10-year-olds are treated like professional prospects. The pressure is insane.
Alfred reminded everyone that the game is supposed to be fun.
✨ Don't miss: NFL Pick 'em Predictions: Why You're Probably Overthinking the Divisional Round
- Personality matters: He showed that you don't have to be a cardboard cutout to be a good player.
- The "Vibe" Shift: Since 2018, you've seen more kids in the LLWS showing personality in their intros. He opened the door for players to be themselves.
- Humility in Fame: Despite the Jimmy Kimmel appearances and the MLB attention, Alfred stayed remarkably grounded. He never tried to launch a cynical "influencer" career off the back of those five seconds.
Why We Still Talk About Him
We talk about him because he represents a specific type of joy that’s hard to find. Most viral stars have a "shelf life" of about 48 hours before people find something problematic or get bored. But Alfred is different. He’s a "where are they now" staple because he’s a reminder of a summer when the whole world agreed on one thing: hitting dingers is cool.
If you’re a young player or a parent today, the lesson from Big Al isn't about how to go viral. It’s about the fact that if you love what you’re doing, people will notice.
Actionable Takeaways for Players and Parents
- Ignore the scouts, find the fun: If you're 12, your primary job is to enjoy the game. The "pro" mindset can wait until you're actually getting paid.
- Own your identity: Whether you're "Big Al" or the quiet kid who bunts, play the game your way.
- Stay humble: Alfred’s best trait wasn't his power; it was how he handled the noise. When people ask him about the video today, he just laughs and says, "The fame was pretty cool."
The legend of Big Al didn't end in 2018. It just evolved. He went from a viral kid to a hard-working college athlete, proving that while nicknames might change, a good swing is forever.
Keep your eye on the NJ college circuits this year. You might just see another ball disappear over the fence. And you'll know exactly who sent it there.